And then it started.
Weed first — just to calm down, just to sleep. Then the wine. Then the pills I swiped from a friend’s purse at a party. It was easy to slip into the quiet, to let the days blur. The modeling gigs slowed. My phone buzzed nonstop with messages from my agent, from stylists, from photographers. I stopped answering.
I saw it by accident.
Scrolling Instagram at two in the morning, eyes half-lidded, thumb moving on autopilot. And there it was.
@janicewalker: “Forever & always. #engaged #loveofmylife #jasperashford”
The photo hit like a punch.
Janice’s perfectly manicured hand resting on Jasper’s chest, a massive diamond flashing on her finger. His arm around her waist, smiling — Jasper never smiled like that. Not with me. Not for me.
My heart thudded so loud I thought the neighbors could hear. I stared at the screen until my vision blurred, then threw the phone across the room, watching it bounce off the couch cushions and land face-down on the rug.
The next few hours were a fog.
Tearing through the apartment, flinging pillows, pulling art off the walls. Laughing, sobbing, screaming into the silence.
I tore open the bathroom drawer and found it.
A silver razor, gleaming under the harsh vanity light.
I sat on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, the tile cold against my skin. I watched the blade catch the light, turning it over in my fingers.
I just wanted peace. Quiet. Sleep.
The knock came like thunder.
“Brit! Brit, open the door!”
Ace’s voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my forehead to my knees.
“Brit, come on, open the goddamn door!”
The banging rattled the walls.
“Britanny Ashford, don’t you dare do this to me!”
Then the door splintered open. Footsteps. A sharp intake of breath.
“Jesus Christ…”
Ace was on the floor beside me, his arms sliding under mine, pulling me upright.
“Hey — hey, Brit, look at me.” His voice was rough, shaking. “Stay with me, okay?”
I let out a soft, breathy laugh. “You’re so loud, Ace…”
His hands were everywhere — pressing a towel to my wrist, brushing hair out of my face, cupping the back of my neck.
“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Don’t do this, Brit. Don’t you dare.”
I looked up at him, blinking slowly, my lashes heavy with tears.
“You came…” I whispered.
